


the nine letters

by darlingachingbones



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Angel/Demon Relationship, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Based on a Tumblr Post, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Whump (Good Omens), Demon Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, For Me, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingachingbones/pseuds/darlingachingbones
Summary: He had found the box while doing some “much-needed spring cleaning”, according to Crowley. It was a small thing, wood and painted black. It smelled like a cologne that was so familiar and yet he couldn’t place it. He didn’t remember buying the box, so he just chalked it up to a customer, which would explain the familiarity of the scent too.~~Aziraphale finds a bunch of old letters :)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 200





	1. nothing

**Author's Note:**

> so I found this lovely tumblr. post (I'm currently on the prowl for a link to it :)) and it just really struck a chord with me, so I just had to write this. mostly for me. and my partner. but they don't know that. please enjoy, mwah!!

He had found the box while doing some “much-needed spring cleaning”, according to Crowley. It was a small thing, wood and painted black. It smelled like a cologne that was so familiar and yet he couldn’t place it. He didn’t remember buying the box, so he just chalked it up to a customer, which would explain the familiarity of the scent too. 

And yet the box was far too old for that, he dated it back to at least the 1700s.

He set it aside and tried to go back to dusting, doing his best attempt at ignoring it. He could hear Crowley chuckle and say “Curiosity killed the angel, angel.” In his mind. That only fueled the urge to open the box more.

There were seven small pieces of paper, yellowed with age. The ink looked expensive, and the penmanship was crude and thin. 

**_Sixteenth of October, 1793_ **

He began to grin, these must’ve been pages of a diary! Or letters! Aziraphale did admire letters, and he quickly left to make himself a cup of hot cocoa. He hurried back and sat down in his armchair, allowing himself to sink in and get comfortable before he read any further.

**_My dear angel,_ **

It _was_ a love letter. He touched a hand to his heart and smiled fondly at the pet name. Whenever he felt shame for being an angel, he simply thought of Crowley and was better. He wondered when humans had started using it as a term of endearment and he took a quick sip of his cocoa and tapped his foot eagerly.

**_We had lunch today, it was marvelous. We seemed to truly connect, you and I. You had a bit of my wine, and I swore I heard bells when I placed my lips where yours had just been before. Today was a lovely day, no one can dispute that, try as they may, but I may not be able to visit you as often as I wish._ **

**_Our lives keep us apart and I so dreadfully wish they wouldn’t._ **

**_I would like to touch you, hold you, press my lips all over your face and other bits of you as well. Although it is forbidden, a fool can still hope, and I do. I hope that one day you will see that you may trust me as I trust you and care for and want me the same as I you, but these are only the dreams of those who don’t know the way of the world and I have been here long enough to know._ **

**_And yet, I still want you near me. I will try to see you soon,_ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_forever and always._ **

“Oh _my_ ,” he exclaimed softly. The person seemed less educated then some of the authors at the time, but Aziraphale suddenly felt a great need to have known them, whoever they were. They clearly yearned for this “angel” in such a raw way that Aziraphale had not read in years. And he felt it too, pure love radiating off the letters. The love felt familiar, everything about this felt familiar, and yet he couldn’t put his finger on it.

He reached for the next sheet.

**_Fifteenth of March, 1800_ **

**_Congratulations!_ **

**_It was truly lovely to see you today, especially under the circumstances. You did something truly wonderful, and I could not be more proud. We had oysters and ale and watched people dance, and our arms touched. Call me silly, but my face did flush at your blatant affection, the warm air of a false summer around us. When you rested your hand on my thigh, I almost sobbed._ **

**_Oh how I love London, you did well choosing this as your place of residence. It works for me well, getting to see you as often as I please._ **

**_I crave to be near you again, in these dark hours. Tell me, sweetest being, what do you think of?_ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_forever and always._ **

He sighed and closed his eyes, imagining a happy couple, one resting their head on the other as they turn red. They quickly shot open when he realized that he was no longer seeing an anonymous couple, but him and Crowley. He grabbed another one before he could think about it for too long.

**_December twenty-fifth, 1819_ **

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered to himself, preparing for yet another letter full of love.

**_Dearest love,_ **

**_We may not be free to love each other but I was almost sure we would tonight. When your head laid on my shoulder in all of your tipsy glory I had to restrain myself from ravishing you. But oh how I would love to._ **

**_I would have loved to slip my hand under your shirt and tug at your hair while I whisper “Merry Christmas” against your skin. It may be a sin but that is my specialty, as you would be sure to remind me. I would like to recite sonnets to your thighs as I nip at the flesh. I would like to feel you down there, have you feel me in you and you in me. I would love for us to finally be one, that is the greatest present of all._ **

**_But the shoes were a nice gift, I do need something to step on my enemies with._ **

**_I wonder, would you still speak to me if you knew my greatest shame, my worst sin. God has punished me enough as it is, but would you be cruel enough to do the same._ **

**_Oh, angel, I do admire you so._ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_forever and always._ **

The angel felt his cheeks flush and his neck grow hot and he set the note down. He drained his cup and rushed off to make himself another cocoa. When he came back, he looked at the paper gingerly, as if it would explode. He could feel something stir in him and he didn’t trust it at all, but he wanted so badly to know if they ever confessed, so he read on.

**_August seventeenth, 1827_ **

**_Immortal beloved,_ **

He blushed at the blatant reference to Beethoven, remembering how Crowley ridiculed the name when the letters were released in 1866. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one to have come up with it.

**_Imagine yourself if you were to see these letters. You were always the reading type, and I could see it now. Your lovely and daint little fingers running over the paper as your eyes shine. You would look at me, ask if I truly meant these words and I would nod. I would get down on a knee and raise my palms to you and above and swear on it. And you would kneel as well, look me in the eye and…._ **

**_I wouldn’t put it past you to spit in my face._ **

**_I don’t think it’s truly my fault, but the others’. They warned us of each other and you took heed of it and I could never blame you for doing so but my sweet darling, do you not disobey them? I find that so terribly hard to believe, so perhaps it is just me._ **

**_Am I truly that revolting? I remember seeing you at that masquerade, and how you were so happy with me and loving, although you did have an awful lot to drink. When I revealed myself, your face did drop, and you excused yourself. That was almost a decade ago, do you recall? Probably not, you were too lazy then to try and now it just seems trivial._ **

**_If I confessed to you, you would turn me away and what we’ve had for all these years would be over. It seems silly, with that in mind, to keep writing you these letters, and yet I shall probably do so until the day we are no more if only to be honest with you here._ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_Forever and always._ **

Aziraphale frowned and ran his fingers over the letter, trying to imagine how the author thought of their beloved. He wondered why the author would stay with them for so long if they thought this is how their love would respond, clearly that’s a reflection of how they’re being treated.

But, _oh,_ the absolute desperation of forbidden romance. He adored it. A true _Romeo and Juliet_ story.

**_February twenty-eighth, 1834_ **

**_Angel,_ **

**_After months, I was finally allowed to see you. The cholera epidemic truly did numbers for my reputation._ **

**_Oh, pet, you radiate light and warmth, and I would love to live in it forever but your brothers and mine would never allow it._ **

**_You were very distant today, quietly sipping your wine and only truly smiling when you spoke about your books. You weren’t even speaking to me at that point, but to the ducks in the pond._ **

His heart ached for the author, who he was beginning to understand was a man in love with another one. Clearly, this other man didn’t deserve him, and Aziraphale wished he could just comfort him.

**_Perhaps you can somehow hear thoughts, that would surely explain it as my brain was shouting how much I love you._ **

**_I do love you. I didn’t think I was capable of it, my entire existence has been everyone telling me that the closest I’ll get to love is temptation and how it can never happen and yet..._ **

**_I must apologize, my dear angel. I did something unforgivable, or it would be if our love was open to one another. I went to one of those new clubs, to see what all of the “hullabaloo” (as you would say) was about._ **

_Oh no…_ he thought and clenched his jaw. He knew where this was going.

**_There was a young man there, his hair a dark brown but his eyes nearly as blue as yours. He wanted me in a way it seems you never have, so I went with him to one of the discrete rooms._ **

**_When he put himself in me all I did think about was you. As he tore off my shirt, I imagined it being your legs in between mine._ **

**_I do believe that of all the acts I did tonight, having you in my thoughts was the most heinous. I’m so sorry, so sorry. Please believe me, darling, if I could go back, I would._ **

**_What I did was wrong and it would disgust you but perhaps that’s why I did it, to upset you. To show you that I am just that vile and incapable of love._ **

**_But clearly, I am capable of love, and remorse too, as it seems. And you are capable of forgiveness, in your infinite glory._ **

**_Please do forgive me._ **

He began to forget all feelings of pity he had for this man, how could he just forget his feelings for the other and- and- oh god he couldn’t even think it, it was too filthy. **** But he reread the letter and sighed. He too was capable of remorse, and he felt sorry for the author. He deserved love too, even if it wasn’t from his “angel.”

**_July thirteenth, 1835_ **

**_Forgive me._ **

**_After the last time I wrote, I went to see that man again. And then again and again and again. He seems to like me, and he is incredibly passionate. His name is Francis, and his mother was french. He says it’s a family name, and a noble one, and that I should get a name of my own other than just a surname. He is incredibly bossy and is always trying to tell me what to do._ **

**_If we were in love, you would never do that._ **

**_Not that I’m in love with Francis, his name is bloody Francis._ **

**_It’s a mystery why I continue to see him, he treats me like shit and he smells rather foul. I have told him it was over before, he never listens. The sod._ **

**_If you were wondering, that’s why I haven’t seen you recently._ **

**_I do believe people call this feeling guilt. It burns, like hellfire._ **

**_You make me burn, darling._ **

He felt his heart grow heavy for the poor man and he looked around, only to realize it had grown dark out. _Did I get that invested in reading some short love letters?_

His hot cocoa had grown cold, he performed a minor miracle to heat it, and read on.

**_November first, 1835_ **

**_Good news!_ **

**_I left him, angel! I did so after he hit me for speaking too loudly. What a dirty little man, he didn’t deserve me. only you do, although I’m not much of a prize._ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_Forever and always_ **

  
  


**_September third, 1842_ **

**_Love,_ **

**_I seem to be saying this often but please for the love of everything forgive me. I should have never asked that of you, just forcing that on you. But I needed it, angel, you must understand. Understand and forgive._ **

**_I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I love you so much, believe me, I never would have said anything if I knew it would have upset you so much. And what I said afterward, I never meant it. I do need you, I always will._ **

**_Oh, angel, please…_ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_Apologetic forever and always._ **

He sucked in a deep breath and began to cry. He didn’t understand why, he was an angel after all, and angels don’t cry. And anyway, it wasn’t that touching of a letter, but it was so hurt and he could _feel_ it. He felt something else too, an ache at the sight of the year, and he felt like he should know why.

**_September sixth, 1842_ **

**_Speak to me!_ **

**_I came by, I’ve been going every day since the third. And I’ve left letters and advertisements. I sent people to speak to you for me. I have done everything I am capable of, short of a miracle, but those do hurt. I probably will perform one of those though, you need to hear me, and I need to see you._ **

**_The letters I’ve been sending you are nothing like these, don’t worry._ **

**_Fuck._ **

**_I need to sleep, it may be the only thing that can soothe me now. It was once you but now… just forgive me, I beg of you._ **

**_I’m fucking_ ** **_begging._ ** ****

**_Yours,_ **

**_Forever and always,_ **

**_Sorry, loving, needing, begging._ **

Aziraphale stopped cold. 

1842.

Crowley had asked for holy water that year, and they’d had that fight. Crowley had done everything to reach out to him after, and he ignored him.

1834.

Heaven had been keeping a close eye on him, upset that he didn’t listen to their warning during the French revolution. He barely saw Crowley that year, both of them distant and Crowley had gotten a recognition for the cholera outbreak in 1832.




Crowley had come over for Christmas and they had gotten absolutely smashed. He remembered all the laughter and closeness of that night, and his breathing began to speed up.

_No no no no, no fucking way. This can’t be happening, no. it’s impossible… but_ is _it??_

1800.

He had opened up the shop.

“ **_Congratulations! It was truly lovely to see you today, especially under the circumstances. You did something truly wonderful, and I could not be more proud. We had oysters and ale and watched people dance, and our arms touched._ **”

They had gone out to a tavern, and someone had been celebrating a wedding.

1793.

Crowley had saved him from being executed that day.

If he had a heart, it would’ve pounded so hard it would’ve popped out.

“Oh my word, I- my stars, it can’t be. I-... I have to call Crowley.” he stumbled out of the chair, spilling his cocoa over his lap, he grabbed one of the letters and dialed for Crowley in a panic.

The phone rang twice before Crowley answered, cheery as ever. 

“Hello, angel! What can I do you for?” He chirped as Aziraphle clenched the letter tightly and tried to steady his breathing.

He must’ve sounded hurt because Crowley grew worried. “Angel? Aziraphale? Is everything all right? Is it Michael? Gabriel? Talk to me?”

He cleared his throat. “August seventeenth, 1827. Immortal beloved,” he began. He heard Crowley’s breath hitch and read on. “Imagine yourself if you were to see these letters. You were always the reading type, and I-I could see it now. Your lovely and daint little fingers running over the paper as your eyes shine. You would.. You would look at me, ask if I truly meant these words and I would nod. I would get down on a knee and raise my palms to you and above and swear on it. And you would kneel as well, look me in the eye and….”

“Angel…” Crowley said softly. “What are you reading?”

“I wouldn’t have spit in your face.” He whispered, feeling his cheeks grow wet again. 

Crowley took in a deep breath over the phone, before saying shakily: “Can I come over?”

“Yes, dear, always.”


	2. everything

The knock was loud and sharp, and Aziraphale shot up immediately. He opened the door to a stiff Crowley, who hadn’t bothered to grab a coat, despite the cold. 

_He must have rushed here as soon as the call was over,_ he thought and blushed. He let Crowley in, silently. 

“Angel,” the demon said after a moment, tapping his foot. 

“Forgot a coat did you? Look at you, not even a jumper, lord, dearest what am I going to _do_ with you? it’s starting to get cold, you need some form of covering!” It wasn’t what he had meant to say but it was a start and he grabbed Crowley’s arm and pulled him up the stairs and into the sitting room. 

Crowley muttered quietly, “That’s an understatement.”, Making Aziraphale scoff.

He reached out to touch Crowley’s cheek and recoiled almost immediately. “You’re as cold as ice, sit, I’ll get you a blanket or something.”

“You don’t have to-” he started, but the angel cut him off, lightly pushing him onto the sofa. “Crowley, I’d rather you didn’t freeze, and I’ll do as I please. Sit.” 

Aziraphale was back after a couple of minutes, a jumper, and the fluffiest blanket he could find in tow. “Here you go dear,” he whispers, setting them down by the demon and went off to start a fire.

Crowley watched and after a moment spoke. “I’m surprised, when you said I could come over I was sure you would have set a trap or something.”

Aziraphale stood up and straightened quickly, he turned around and tried not to glare. “Why on _earth_ would I do that?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“I mean, you know,” Crowley shrugged. Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head.

“I do not know, enlighten me.”

“What I did- it’s kind of gross, isn’t it? I made you this perverse thing and I brought you into my moments alone and-”

“From what i understand, you weren’t very alone.” Aziraphale shot in. he didn’t intend for it to sound so rude, so judgemental. But it was out now, and he wouldn’t take it back. He waited for a comeback.

Crowley’s face turned red and he pushed his glassed back higher on his nose, despite them being already in place. “I- when I was with him, I made you a part of that.” He mumbled and began bouncing his leg.

The angel cocked his head before realisation dawned on him. “So you think I would want to punish you for... Ah. well, if I was going to do something as absurd as punish you, it would be for writing those foolish letters and never giving them to me. What were they doing here anyhow?” by now his arms had dropped to his sides, and he made his way to sit down on the other side of the sofa.

Crowley’s leg bouncing stopped momentarily before resuming. “I was being raided, they had to go somewhere,”

“Crowley, some of the things you said in these letters… you asked what I think of at night, and you told me what you thought, you were open and honest.” 

Crowley snorted. “Maybe there’s hope for me yet, eh? Being honest isn’t very demonic.” When he didn’t hear a response, he looked over at Aziraphale. The blond looked less than amused and he held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry.” He looked down at his feet.

Aziraphale cleared his throat before continuing. “As I was saying, I thought of it too. Those things you said- I wanted to be with you as well.”

Crowley’s eyes grew wide and his head spun around to look at Aziraphale. “How- how do you mean?” 

“I wanted to do this for so long,” Aziraphale said slowly, inching over to Crowley. “And I thought of it every night.” His mouth was on Crowley’s before anything else could be said. 

The demon wasted no time, pulling his angel closer to him by the front of his hand-knit jumper. Aziraphale made a noise of surprise before reaching up to hold Crowley’s face. He pulled away when he felt tears.

“My darling, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, taking off the demon’s glasses

Crowley shrugged and looked away, wishing his tears to disappear. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Aziraphale pushed, gently taking hold of Crowley’s right hand. 

“No, never, it isn’t that,” he reassured, still not looking at his angel. “You read those letters, you know I want this terribly, but I’m not like you. This _hurts._ These acts of lo- affection burn. And I would let them, you know, I don’t care about that but what if it hurts you? And what if I hurt you? I can’t give you what you want, angel. You’re too kind and warm and I’m fucking frozen and I feel so different to you, and it’s so evident. It’s this big, cosmic fucking joke, and I can’t have this. It just isn’t fai-”

“ _Crowley!_ ” He blinked and felt arms around him, hands resting on his shoulder. He let himself be pulled into Aziraphale, Crowley’s back resting against his chest. “I know it hurts, I just didn’t know how much dearest, and I’m sorry. I know you may not care, but I do. We won’t do or say anything that hurts either of us, alright? You could never hurt me, even if you really wanted to, I’m not as weak as everyone seems to think. I’m a fucking angel of the lord, Crowley, I can handle both of us.”

He waited until Crowley relaxed before continuing, slowly bringing up a hand to stroke his hair. “you’re very kind yourself, in your own willy ways. You worry for me, all the time. It’s touching and I feel everything you can’t express in that, dear. You give me _everything_ and of course, you feel different to me, we’re our own separate beings. We love in different ways, it doesn’t make it any less or more than the other's.”

‘That’s very insightful, angel,” Crowley mumbled, entwining his fingers with Aziraphale’s.

“I know you may not believe it now, it doesn’t work that way, but I do love you, and I know you love me too. And I forgive you, for everything. Despite you not doing much, you have my forgiveness.” He said softly and lightly pulled his hand out of the demon’s, making Crowley turn around and face him. Crowley was crying again, but he looked ecstatic. “Could you forgive me as well, darling?” Aziraphale asked, watching the demon purse his lips.

“Look at us, crying idiots,” he huffed out and laughed shakily. Aziraphale only shook his head and smiled. “I forgive you sweetness, obviously. For what- I don’t know, but you have all of it, my forgiveness, my spite, my care, my pain me l- yeah.”

The angel took his hand and pressed it to his heart. “And you have whatever you ask for, my darling scoundrel.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Crowley snickered and leaned forward, kissing his darling angel, his everything.

  
  
  
  



End file.
